


Claws and Dagger

by Inuy21



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, F/M, Hair-pulling, Lucio Is An Asshole, Public Blow Jobs, Rough Oral Sex, Threats of Violence, pre-plague Lucio, takes place before the actual Arcana storyline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 07:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17803556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inuy21/pseuds/Inuy21
Summary: Ophelia stumbles across a scene she has no business witnessing. Before she can turn tail and run, though, she gets caught by a murderous Count.





	Claws and Dagger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peony_princesa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peony_princesa/gifts).



> Oof. This was so fun to write but also a major challenge as I've never written anything like it before! 
> 
> Please let me know if more tags need to be added, I never quite know what should be mentioned there.

Lucio had barely broken a sweat, but the fury and exhilaration still boiling his blood and swirling around in his brain wouldn’t let him relax. A sneer covered his features as he combed a hand through his hair to brush back the loose strands that flopped over his eyes. What a waste of time this had been. Lowly vermin just standing there as he cut them down before most of them had a chance to cry out in surprise or terror. 

A breeze fluttered his loose shirt, alerting him that it was now a useless rag. He let out a disgusted noise, looking down at the ripped and bloodied clothing. Perhaps his targets hadn’t been stationary prey after all. His right hand fitted through one of the slices where one of his victims had tried to stab him and came away clean. A viperous smile bared his teeth to the dead man he towered over. 

“You could have at least drawn a drop of blood,” he hissed at the lifeless soul, his boot kicking up dust as it went to strike the head. “Have your blades been dulled by this pathetic city?” he quipped, squatting down to inspect the victim. “Such a shame you’ll never see it prosper under my reign.”

The body didn’t hold many valuables: a few coins. It was barely enough to buy a loaf of bread, but Lucio pocketed them away. As he stood, his tongue swept over his lips and came away with a tangy taste. His right hand wiped at his face as he pierced his sword into the lifeless body before him to ease the building anger that his beauty had been defiled. The palm was stained red when he pulled it back. His sneer reappeared as Lucio hoped it was the blood of this now-dead fool. 

~S~

Ophelia watched, frozen, as the blonde-haired man licked the blood from his hand and glared at the dead man. Her heart thrummed in her chest. Her breath hitched in her throat, almost making her choke and cough to give away her position. Fear and fascination warred within her when the man unsheathed his sword from the body and moved onto to the next. She was surprised when he let the sword drag across the ground, leaving a bloody trail behind it as he clutched it in a golden gauntleted hand. 

She couldn’t keep sitting here, watching him, waiting to be his next victim. Was he too preoccupied with the other bodies to see or hear her slip away? Why had she continued to cower behind this cart during the slaughtering? She should have run in the opposite direction when she heard the screams instead of going towards them, thinking that they might need help and never contemplating that there were men getting murdered. Now, she was doomed like the others. 

Her body shook with nerves, needed to adjust and yet if she made a noise she knew the blonde man would hear her. She’d end up skewered on his sword just like the pathetic souls scattered around the open area. To die because of some blood-thirsty man? Ophelia shook her head, biting her lip. No, she had to get out of her before she was spotted. 

~S~

Lucio cocked his head, senses still on high alert after the battle. The hand on his sword gripped tighter, readying the weapon for its next target. His eyes darted around the bodies, making sure they were lifeless corpses and that none of them were trying to fool him to get out of death. He had gotten all the targets so who was left? A spy? Someone waiting to plunder his kills? His lip curled up again, waiting to see if the scoundrel would show themselves. 

It could be nothing, some small creature prowling the streets, but Lucio knew that someone or something was out there. Were they waiting for him? Or just scurrying past as any being should if they came upon such a scene? He wasn’t a patient man, but he also didn’t wish to scare any new prey off if they lingered. They may offer up the challenge he had been hoping for from this group. 

~S~

Ophelia swallowed the lump rising in her throat as she watched the man scan the area around him. Had he heard her? Did he somehow know she was here? Should she take her chance and bolt now? Dread controlled her as she watched the sword in his hand lift from the ground, congealing blood dripping from the tip. A gasp wrenched from her throat and gave her away, blonde head whipping in her direction to focus pale eyes on her hiding spot. 

She jumped up, feet twisting before taking off at a run. Unfortunately, she didn’t make it far before a scraping sting bit into her neck as she was grabbed and thrown to the ground. The wind was knocked from her lungs, her sight blackened, and her ears rang with a dull buzz. She was going to die. Maybe she already was dead?! Was her heart still beating? It was hard to tell as her brain tried to reconnect all her senses and grasp on reality. 

It was the boot on her chest that confirmed she was still living…for now. Ophelia blinked her vision blurry and watery. A dust covered hand wiped at one eye, making it burn more, her head twisting to find a part of her arm that was clean. Then there was the cold press of steel against her extended neck. 

“Little mouse, can you hear me?” 

The tone was smooth and haughty and yet held a bit of hiss to it. This man, whoever he was, would not let her go for free. That was if he even let her live, she thought, as the tip of his sword pricked her skin leaving a burning sensation that made her suck in a breath of air. She was afraid to swallow with the blade so near.

“I was just,” she squeaked, throat dry and still a little rusty from being winded. 

The boot on her chest weighed down as he leaned on it. From the corner of her eyes Ophelia could see the delighted snarl twisting his lips. 

“Speak up little mouse, your life depends on it.”

She bit her lip, terrified yet exasperated at the man’s goading. How was she to speak up with a sword at her throat and his boot crushing her chest? She attempted to clear her throat, but it only seemed to make things worse as a coughing fit started from the dust and strain. 

The man above her tsked, moving the sword away from her convulses lest she slit her own throat before he was done with her. Ophelia breathed a little easier with the next intake of air, her head turning so she could look this man in the eyes. 

“I was only passing through,” her voice was still a little rough but stronger now that she could breathe without fear of getting stabbed. “Had I known innocents were being slaughtered I would have chosen another alleyway,” she griped, ready for the sword to cut into her flesh for her surliness, but it was best to go out the way she wanted and not a mewling coward. 

The man’s sneer turned into a devilish grin then his head tipped back to release coarse melodic laughter. The sound made Ophelia tremble as she watched the sword switch from right to left with practiced ease as his laughter continued. This man wasn’t going to let her go, she was certain of it. She shifted, trying to make it look like she was squirming under the pressure of his booted foot in case his humor vanished as quickly as it had come. Just as her hand found the hilt of the knife she carried, pale eyes were on her again. Her breath hitched, fingers tightening and refusing to let this moment slip past. 

Without a thought to consequence, the blade flashed free and swung toward the underside of the man’s right thigh. However, he was quick to dodge, pulling his foot from her chest as the tip of his sword pinned her shoulder. The knife dropped from hand as Ophelia cried out, more from shock at being thwarted so effortlessly than pain he inflicted on her body. 

A dark chuckle rumbled through the air. “Not a mouse I have caught, but a viper it seems,” the man hummed with delight. 

The sword skimmed from Ophelia’s shoulder to rest under her chin, persuading her to incline her head and expose her throat. She swallowed thickly as the dirty blade brushed over her lips and rested at her nose. 

“Mouse or viper, it makes no difference for you are still only a nuisance that needs disposing of,” he taunted, boredom lacing his voice yet anticipating her reply. 

“You can’t,” she spit out, hoping her voice wasn’t as shaken as her nerves. 

That malicious laughter filled the area again, though this time not as loud or long. “I can’t?” he sneered with a mocking tone. 

His sword lashed with the motion of his body, the tip scratching Ophelia’s cheek and making her wince. 

“I’ll do,” she choked, almost sobbed but caught herself. What was her life worth to him? She had no money or influence she could bargain with, but she could tell from his watchful gaze that she had his attention. “A favor, whatever you wish of me if you would let me go.”

This time his laughter was a bark, sharp and short, before he bent down. His right hand wrapped around her neck, fingers digging into her flesh as he hauled her up off the ground. Ophelia clawed at his hand, her feet kicking as she struggled for breath. 

“What could a parasite like you offer to the Count of Vesuvia?” the man hissed, watching her thrash while her mouth opened and closed in an attempt to appease him before tossing her back onto the ground. 

Ophelia coughed, wheezed. One hand landed on her sore throat while the other pushed long tendrils of dark hair off her face. She blinked, vision once again watery but refused to wipe it away like last time. With blurred sight she watched him sheath his sword then bend down to pick something up. He tossed the item up in the air as he moved toward her. 

“On your knees,” he commanded, standing a few paces away from her. 

Blinking the tears from her eyes, she pushed up on her elbows. Ophelia now saw that he held her knife. Sadistic son of a bitch! He went from inspecting the blade to her halted position still on her back. His features narrowed, twisted in revulsion. 

“KNEES!” he roared, the tip of her blade pointing in her direction as a threat. 

With narrowed eyes, she licked her dust-coated lips and maneuvered until she was kneeling. A golden arm lashed out, talons scratching her scalp and snaring in her hair. Then he was tugging on the collected strands and forcing her head back, so she had to look up at him. His sneer returned, though he looked more amused than annoyed with her now. 

“You should have scurried away while I slaked my bloodlust on these fools.” The claws in her hair pulled and twisted so he could examine her face. “Pretty face,” he mused while he slid the blade of her knife just below her throat. 

Ophelia tensed but refused to close her eyes and wish for death. She licked her lips again before voicing, “Will you make use of it, Count?”

His mouth opened just enough to let her see his tongue swiping over his teeth. The blade at her throat was still too close for comfort, leaving the oddest tickling sensation when it touched her. Ophelia swallowed, observing her captor as the silence built between them. It was almost enough to drive her mad! 

“Use,” he muttered as if in deep thought of this prospect, the golden arm in her hair loosening. 

Then four pointed tips dragged along her right cheek enough to make her shiver. The knife at her throat was tossed to the side as a metal palm cupped her chin and claws dug into both cheeks. Ophelia winced at the bruising contact, her eyes closing for the barest moment. 

“How much lovelier I could make your face.” A pointed tip rested above the center of her mouth then drew down to stop below her chin, tilting her head back just a bit further. “My cock in your mouth, perhaps I will be gracious and paint your face with my cum instead of making you choke on it.” 

Ophelia shifted, squirmed just the slightest at his words. Vulgar, disgusting, vile human. If he was going to use her then she wanted it to be over quick, not dragged out into teasing, torturous fun for this man. 

Lucio cocked his head, the claw at her chin digging into flesh. “Speak! Will you suck your Count’s cock or be another victim added to the pile?” 

She wanted to look anywhere but at her captor, her golden eyes slanting to the side in hopes of giving her a moment to swallow her pride and fear. The sting of his grip wouldn’t let her mind close off too much, though. With limited options, Ophelia resigned to her fate. “I will,” she grumbled, keeping her eyes averted from his handsome face. 

The claws at her cheek dug in for the briefest of moments. “You will what?” he demanded. 

Her lips pressed into a thin line, eyes glancing up to assess his features. The snarl on his lips said he wasn’t happy, but the light in his eyes told her he was excited for whatever outcome she would decide. Ophelia licked her lips, tongue poking into the corners as she gathered her wits. She could do this. He was a good-looking man, at least, she reasoned with her inner turmoil. “I will suck your cock, Count.” 

He gave her a toothy smile. “Count Lucio,” he corrected. The sting of his talons faded as he loosened his grip on her and commanded, “Say it.”

Ophelia’s eyes wavered to the left. “Count Lucio.”

Lucio shook his head, his smile twisting into something less pleasing as a claw dragged across her lips. “Tell me what you will do.”

A breath of exasperation blew from her nose as his golden talon slipped back under her chin. A malicious grin tugged at his lips, but she knew he wouldn’t wait long for her to answer. Shifting on her sore knees, Ophelia batted her lashes in agitation before repeating, “I will suck your cock, Count Lucio.”

Pointed tips pressed back into her flesh, jerking her head and eyes up to meet an amused snarl. His free hand drifted over the ripped and bloodied shirt, down to the belt that held his pants up. Ophelia couldn’t resist the urge to follow the path, if only to take her eyes off that all-knowing smirk. Well-toned muscles showed through the cuts in his shirt, and when she got to his hand the breath caught in her throat. 

For as long as she’d been on her knees at crotch level how had she not seen the fleshy bulge popping out of his unfastened pants. Her tongue swiped over her lips, involuntarily, as the hand unbuckling his belt constrained the flesh underneath to peak further out of its confine. The talons on her face became a caress instead of the clenching, painful grip she’d grown accustomed to causing Ophelia to sway forward from the lack of force. 

“Eager now, are we, little viper?” 

The condescending tone roused Ophelia from the haze she had started to drift toward. Her initial response in her head was to snap at him about her name, and her mouth opened to do just that before she quickly shut it. She didn’t want this man to know her name or anything else about her that might give him a way to find her that much easier when this was all over, and they parted ways…if he let her leave. No, he could call her whatever he wanted while he used her. That brought her focus to what he thought she was eager for: his cock. She wanted to spit on him, but after witnessing this Count Lucio lick someone else’s blood off his hand, Ophelia figured he would probably like it if she did that. 

Shuddering, she did the next logical thing that came to mind. She directed a scowl toward Count Lucio while shifting back on her knees as he pulled the belt from around his waist to let his pants unceremoniously drop to his thighs. Golden claws tangled back into her hair, bringing her up short and not letting her get too far away from his freed cock. A heavy boot landed on her thigh as if that would hold her in place, as well, but Ophelia struggled against both even as her scalp stung, and his boot pressed down harder. 

“You said a favor, anything if I would let you go to live the rest of your pathetic life.” The hiss in his voice brought Ophelia to a halt. The boot slid up higher, pulling the material of her harem pants tighter as it bunched with the movement. “There are other holes I could use, should you prefer to offer those up for your favor.”

Ophelia glowered through the pain, a hand rising to join his in her hair as if that would ease the burning. “No,” she ground out, bringing a satisfied a smirk to Count Lucio’s face. “I’ll use my mouth.”

Lucio tsked, pulling her head back so she was forced to look at him once more. “Say it like you mean it, viper.”

His free hand shot to his cock, giving the erect member slow and firm strokes causing Ophelia to swallow the lump gathering in her throat. The bastard was looking for any excuse to kill her, wasn’t he? If she didn’t plead for his cock like some common whore would she end up bleeding out here with the other corpses? Her tongue swiped over drying lips, tasting the dirt and sweat that clung to them. She could put on a good show without giving too much away, couldn’t she?

“Let me suck your cock, Count Lucio.” The hand in her hair tightened, sharp metal tips scratching her scalp. “Please,” she gasped out from the pain. 

“There’s that eagerness.” Lucio stepped closer, the hand on her head pushing. “Show me what that pretty little mouth can do.”

Ophelia breathed through her nose, her mind buzzing from the hold he had on her. She tried not to focus on what was inching closer to her face, what she would have to do if she wanted to make it out of this encounter alive, but it was also impossible to ignore the dick that was being shoved at her mouth. Her tongue flicked out, preparing, as she looked up at her captor to find him watching right back. She opened her mouth and moved forward on her own, earning a groan from the Count when her tongue circled around the head of his cock. There was no turning back now. Without thinking, she ran her tongue up one side until she reached his hand that was wrapped around the base. Fingers twitched and she licked them in turn before they were gone, and she was left with no obstacles. 

A second hand landed in her hair, smoother, less pointy, thank the gods, though no less rougher. His hips jerked forward, cock brushing against her cheek as her mouth and tongue were still busy near the base, but he seemed intent on fixing that as his hands forced her head back and bowed her back. Her hands landed in the dirt to support her weight, her eyes watering from the grip of his hands and the bend of her body. Ophelia bit her cheek, refusing to cry out if that’s what this man wanted from her. If he got off on pain, then…Her thoughts were cut off abruptly when hard flesh pressed against her lips, traced the seam of them as if that would tempt to her open and take him into her mouth. She blinked, and it was then, with blurry eyes that she found his normal hand had left her hair to wrap around his cock again so he could her tease her with it. 

When she didn’t open her mouth fast enough for the Count’s liking, his artificial hand let go of her hair to pry at her jaw. “If you would…” Ophelia’s complaint was cut off by golden claws pinching into her cheeks to keep her mouth from shutting. She glared up at Lucio as his cock slid past her open lips. From the start she should’ve deduced that this man wasn’t patient, but she had wanted to get him close to orgasm before getting his cock shoved down her throat. 

“If I wanted to hear you, I would be asking questions,” Lucio told her, claws scraping along her cheeks and jaw almost affectionately. 

Ophelia blinked at the treatment and flicked her tongue over his slit before looking back up at Count Lucio. She hummed as his cock glided deeper into her mouth, his golden talons tickling along her jaw and up to her ear. Her tongue curled around the shaft, making Lucio groan as his artificial hand swept back into her hair. It was gentler than before causing Ophelia to close her eyes and suck until her cheeks hallowed around his length. He muttered something that she couldn’t make out nor cared to know, his hips tilting forward until his cock hit the back of her throat. She sank back on her knees, the hand in her hair tangling and pulling but she ignored it, focused now on the cock in her mouth and the pleasures she could give the appendage and impress the man that held her life in his hands. 

Taking a chance, her right hand left the ground, intent on wrapping around the base of his cock only to find his hand still there. His fingers flexed then fluttered at her touch. Ophelia didn’t know why that brought a smile to her lips, this man that demanded such respect and power might be affected by her touch. The small bit of intimacy didn’t last long, though, as his hand abandoned its position and forced hers to take over the spot. He moved her hand in small pumps before leaving off when she continued without his aid. Gods, how she wanted to stop everything and shout at this man that she knew around a cock! Except that wasn’t possible as his second hand cupped her skull to keep her bobbing head from moving off his erect length. 

When his hips thrusted forward, Ophelia almost gagged as the force of it slammed his cock against the back of her throat and her hand knocked against her lips. She winced, swearing she could taste blood, but the worry didn’t last long with his thrusts keeping up a steady rhythm and his hands refusing to give her aching jaw a break. Her gaze lingered back up to the Count’s face, finding that his pale eyes were watching her, them. Not that she should be surprised. She was to some extent, though, to find him not just watching his cock filling her mouth, but that he was looking her in the eyes. She felt heat bloom on her cheeks, wanted to do more than just having him fuck her mouth if only he would allow it. 

Instead she concentrated on what she could do while he kept control. Ophelia twisted her hand around the base of his cock as he hammered into her, her tongue caressing along the length as much as it could. Both of his hands twisted in her hair to keep her steady from the strength of his thrusts, a long and hissing moan spilling out into the air around them. She hummed, pleased and proud that she’d conjured such a noise from him with such little work on her part as a pleasant warmth tingled down her spine at his harsh handling. There was a part of her that tried to ignore the thrill, but a larger part of her wanted the Count to be harsher despite that lingering fear of knowledge after watching him kill with no remorse. A shiver rippled through her. He was still covered in his victims’ blood, the bodies lying not too far from where she knelt at his feet. 

“Watch the teeth, viper.”

The growl brought her back from the haze causing her to gasp around the cock filling her mouth, almost choking on the noise as Lucio refused to stop. She squeezed her hand around his length in response, some mild form of retaliation for not letting her breathe properly. Except he moaned and massaged the back of her head with his normal hand. Encouraged, Ophelia anchored her knees and brought her other hand up to cup his balls. She felt him tense at the touch, wondered if she shouldn’t, but when she put just the slightest bit of pressure into her hold he relaxed and so did Ophelia. Her jaw loosened, relieving some of that pleasurable ache, as her hands worked in unison on his shaft and balls. A heavy hand dropped to her left shoulder, claws digging past the thin material of her top. She flinched at the pain and the tearing of fabric but refused to let it interfere with her task, in fact, it made her work that much faster to get this over with; her hands squeezing and gripping as her cheeks hallowed from the suction. 

“Fuck,” Lucio grunted, the hand in her hair caressing in soft pets. 

He continued talking, words slurring into the next and not making sense in Ophelia’s buzzing and occupied mind. Maybe it was best she couldn’t make them out because while they might have been praise, it was more likely that they were insults of some kind and she didn’t need to be set off just as things were coming to an end. His hips stuttered and jerked, the hand against her skull holding firm as he thrust into her mouth while still muttering. Then came the first spurt of warm, salty fluid at the back of her throat. Lucio rode out the waves of lust, fingers tangling in her hair as she swallowed what she could of his release. She felt some of it dribble out and down her chin, her left hand leaving his balls to wipe the access away but only managing to spread the sticky fluid into a bigger mess. 

With his climax reached, Ophelia dropped both hands to the ground. She would have pulled her head back, too, if not for the grip still at the back of her head. At least the claws on her shoulder had subsided into a lighter touch and not digging into her flesh. Now if he would just let her go so this could all end and she could get home to cleanse and tend to her aches and wounds. As if Lucio was able to read her mind, she was finally released without dignity or grace. 

Lucio stepped back, his softening cock slipping from her mouth as his hand ruffled her hair in a manner one might use to show affection toward a beloved pet. She couldn’t stop from glaring at Lucio at such a gesture, not even caring if he would punish her in some way. A smirk pulled at his thin lips, and the thumb of his normal hand wiped at the corner of her mouth before rubbing it along her lips. Her glare intensified but Ophelia flicked her tongue over his thumb, drawing the appendage into her mouth so she could suck on it, her eyes locking with his as she did so. Whatever he saw there made his smirk turn into a smile, his fingers stroking her cheek and jaw while she licked his thumb. 

Lucio pressed down on her tongue, his thumb skimming over the top in long strokes. “I knew that mouth could be put to good use. Does the little viper wish to tell me her name now?” 

Why ever would she do that? With her tongue being held hostage, apparently, Ophelia couldn’t exactly answer him, so she gave a gentle shake of her head while keeping eye contact. 

The Count tsked, popped his thumb free and stepped back. Ophelia stayed where she was, afraid to move and have his attention back on her even as she watched him tuck himself back into his trousers and held them up with his golden hand while he retrieved his belt from the ground. She slouched, relaxing just a touch as he concentrated on buckling up and brushing his clothing as if they might magically be fixed and cleaned. Perhaps he thought it might work? She had no idea if the man could use magic, hadn’t seen him use it on his victims, but maybe he’d been too arrogant to do so? No, his clothes remained the same as he gave up and brushed his hands over the thighs of his dusty trousers. 

Ophelia thought, hoped, that he would just leave so she could have some time to collect herself and wrap her mind around just happened. Of course, he wouldn’t make it that easy for her. He looked about the area as if seeing it for the first time again, perhaps he was making sure everyone was still dead or that no one else had entered their sanctuary? She didn’t know, didn’t care, just wanted him gone from her sight. Instead he stooped down and retrieved her knife. He twirled the blade in front of her face with his metal hand as if to mock her helplessness.

“Fangless viper,” he taunted, bringing the tip to her chin then ran the blade along her jaw up to her ear. “So obedient and silent now. Such a good little cock sucker, too.” 

His normal hand brushed over the tangled mess of her hair until it grabbed a small clump near where he held her knife. Ophelia closed her eyes, preparing for whatever he was going to do to her then heard the snick of her blade cutting through the strands Lucio had separated from the rest. She almost sobbed, whether in relief or frustration she wasn’t sure, but she was still alive to evaluate that later. When she opened her eyes, it was to find the Count pocketing the hair he’d trimmed. He would find her, despite not giving her name up to him, if he wanted her, he would have her and nothing would stop him it seemed. The thought made her shudder, lingering fear coming back to life and it didn’t help when he pointed the blade back toward her face. 

“Next we meet, I mean to take my time with you. I did promise to make that face of yours prettier.” The tip of her knife pressed down on her lower lip. “I would love to cover your entire body with my cum, little viper, if your mouth wasn’t so enticing and pleasing.” He shook his head as if distracted by his thoughts. “No, I will have the time to use you as a canvas, viper.”

Careful of the blade resting on her lip, Ophelia scooted back, no longer held in place by his hands. She wanted to tell him off. That there was no way he was ever getting her alone again, but she knew that wasn’t true. It would be a game to him. Cat and mouse…viper? Gods, was she really going to use his term for her? Before she could think of anything cutting to say, though, Lucio tossed her knife somewhere behind her and turned to saunter off as if this was a usual occurrence. 

“Come for me if you dare, viper, but you won’t best me with such poor skills,” he called out, not even giving her the decency of looking over his shoulder. A few more steps and he paused, but still didn’t look back. “Though I will say your tongue is far more skilled than your blade.”

Ophelia watched as his golden hand rested on the hilt of his sword, the pointed fingers curling as if she would actually try to attack him now. Oh, the urge was there, but that would require her to take her eyes off his retreating form and she wouldn’t chance that. Once he rounded the corner and was out of sight, though, Ophelia pushed herself from the dirt, her legs wobbly and knees shaking from the mental and physical strain of her encounter. Not caring about the dust coating her skin, she lifted a hand and wiped the back of it across her mouth and nose. If this Count Lucio came for again, she would be prepared. He thought her helpless without a blade. A short, dark laugh parted her lips, no she wouldn’t let him have her so easily the next time.


End file.
